


A Zealous Pilgrimage to Thee

by deedeeinfj



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, MFMM Year of Quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 20:14:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14362800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: "I want the alternate fic where she comes out and shags him in the chair." -Fire_Sign





	A Zealous Pilgrimage to Thee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/gifts).
  * Inspired by [No Quiet Find](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14336694) by [Fire_Sign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Sign/pseuds/Fire_Sign). 



> As with many things I do, this is Fire_Sign’s fault. She wrote “No Quiet Find,” which you must read before reading this. “Though now I want the alternate fic where she comes out and shags him in the chair,” she said. “On it,” I said. 
> 
> I’m sorry that I jumped on this before SarahToo because it’s the kind of prompt she takes and makes our bones melt, whereas I always veer away from sexy and into fluffy... and this is no exception.
> 
> This takes off about halfway through the original story, just after Jack has read the sonnet.

_Weary with toil, I haste me to my bed,_  
_The dear repose for limbs with travail tired;_  
_But then begins a journey in my head_  
_To work my mind, when body’s work’s expired._  
_For then my thoughts, from far where I abide,_  
_Intend a zealous pilgrimage to thee,_  
_And keep my drooping eyelids open wide,_  
_Looking on darkness which the blind do see._  
_Save that my soul’s imaginary sight_  
_Presents thy shadow to my sightless view,_  
_Which, like a jewel hung in ghastly night,_  
_Makes black night beauteous, and her old face new._  
_Lo thus by day my limbs, by night my mind,_  
_For thee, and for myself, no quiet find._

 

He smiled, both at the page she’d chosen to bookmark and at the fact that her perfume had wafted into the room, yet again announcing her presence before he could see or hear her. He closed his eyes and waited. 

A hand caressed the nape of his neck and massaged up into his hairline. Jack took her hand and tugged her around to the front of the chair, drinking in the sight of her as she stepped between his legs and took his head in both hands. He rested his forehead between her breasts, covered with the soft satin of her pyjama top, as his hands found their way to her hips. Then he tilted his head back to look up at her again.

“How are you so lovely even when you’re exhausted?” she mused, almost to herself, tracing the corners of his eyes with her thumbs. “Long day?”

“Long week.” He slid his hands under her top to rest his palms against the smooth, warm skin of her back. “I found _some_ quiet while you were gone, you know. In fact, it’s been unusually quiet.” He felt the right corner of his mouth twitch with a teasing smile he was trying – and failing – to hide.

Phryne picked up his glass and drained the last sip of his whiskey. “You missed my noise,” she said. “You like it.” He laid his head against her chest again and gave a hum of affirmation. “And I missed this. Your quiet.” She held him to her for a few blissful moments, then asked, “Shall I lead you to the back and put you warmly to bed, or…”

“Or?” he prompted, already knowing that he wanted the second option.

“Or…” She pushed him back and eased into his lap, her knees on either side of his thighs.

“Or,” he said.

Smiling, she pulled her top over her head and sighed happily when he covered her small breasts with his hands, laying her own hands on his as their lips met at last. He loved kissing her after she had removed her makeup for the day, when all he could taste was _her_ – along with a hint of his whiskey.

“God, I missed your mouth,” he said, breathless. The firelight made her skin glow. _A jewel hung in ghastly night_ , he thought.

Her fingers trailed down his jawline. “This is my favorite place to make love to you,” she said.

“Really?” he asked, genuinely surprised.

“It’s… so much _yours_. It always feels as if you’re letting me in… giving me some part of yourself.” She gave him a cheeky grin. “Besides the more obvious part of yourself, anyway.” She leaned forward to kiss him again, brief tastes of his upper lip. “And I like to imagine you here with your books, hopelessly distracted by thoughts of us together.”  
  
“There are many places, now, where I’m hopelessly distracted by those thoughts,” he said, and she looked both amused and delighted at the admission.

He helped her free him of his tie and waistcoat, and he steadied her as she maneuvered to remove her pyjama bottoms.

“Is there a place like that for you?” she asked as she unbuckled his belt. “A place where you feel closer to me?”

It was hard to think when her fingers were unbuttoning his trousers and smalls, but he marshaled his wits. “It isn’t a place, really,” he replied, the last word partially lost in a moan.

Phryne lifted herself up and guided his cock into her body as she lowered herself onto him. “Oh, Jack… Don’t move just yet, darling.”

He had no intention of moving; it had been over a month, after all, and his hand was a poor substitute for this heaven. They both took slow, deep breaths that eventually joined in slow, deep kisses until Phryne began to roll her hips. Jack used his hands both to support her and to hold her close for his mouth, tasting every familiar and long-missed feature he could reach.

“Jack, I need you to—” His hand was already there, his fingers circling and providing pressure in just the way he knew she needed. “Yes, just like that. You always… oh, please, Jack, don’t stop…”

“The afternoon I was sitting here and you put your mouth on me, I think of it all the time,” he told her, partly to help her along and partly because he needed the distraction. “Every time I sit here, Phryne, I remember your tongue…”

Her back arched and her mouth fell open as she came for him – still and always the most beautiful thing he had ever seen – and he gave in to his own orgasm as her inner muscles held him tight.

“…your tongue on my cock,” he panted, as if his brain had finally sent the end of his thought to his mouth.

Phryne gave a short, breathless laugh as she slumped against him and pressed a few kisses to his neck and shoulder.

They spent a few minutes in sated, contented quiet, and Jack’s exhaustion, which had momentarily subsided in the wake of arousal, seeped in even stronger than before. They both knew they would have to move, and soon, but neither seemed to be in any great hurry. He traced patterns on Phryne’s back with his fingertips and let his eyes drift shut.

“What was your answer to the question?” she asked, her lips tickling his skin. She yawned. “About where you like to make love because you feel closer to me. You said it wasn’t a place.”

“You said you like this chair because it feels like my place and that I’m letting you in, so to speak, when we’re together here.”

“Mmm.” She nuzzled into his neck.

“For me, it’s a time more than a place, I think. Mornings at your house. Every time I wake up in your bed and you want me again…”

Phryne raised her head and kissed him softly. “Speaking of bed… Shall we, love?”

He smiled, overcome with happiness that she was back, that they were here. “Haste me to my bed, Miss Fisher.”


End file.
